


Death By Chocolate

by separatedrain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex and Chocolate, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 08:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/separatedrain/pseuds/separatedrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Cas, chocolate, blow jobs. Incredibly schmoopy porn, basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death By Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> ...I may have titled this after a GISHWHES item. So sue me. Also, I will not be held responsible for any cavities this might induce. Happy V-day, kids! ([Tumblr version](http://separatedrain.tumblr.com/post/76631651341/dean-cas-chocolate-blow-jobs-in-which-i-write).)

"Oh, come on! Will you just keep still already?"

Dean has discovered two things, in the past ten minutes or so. One: that writing Enochian is harder than it looks. Especially if your medium is gooey, sticky chocolate sauce, and your surface keeps _moving_. Because, two: that Cas is pretty damn ticklish.

"Sorry—" Cas actually fucking _giggles_ , now, and the ripple it sends through the plane of his stomach makes the stroke Dean was drawing veer wildly off-track. He doesn't sound particularly apologetic at all. "I can't help it! It's not my fault you humans have to be so sensitive."

Dean shakes his head in mock disappointment, looking down at the smeared mess. It's gibberish now, really. "I think," he says, licking a stripe across Cas' stomach with the tip of his tongue, "that at this point," another, "I have no choice but to start over with a clean slate."

Cas swipes a finger through the syrup and pops it in his mouth to lick it clean, and wow, that simple gesture has no right to be this hot. "What was it supposed to say?"

Dean opens his mouth to answer, pauses, cleans off some more of the chocolate, instead. "Doesn't matter now," he shrugs. "Nothing important."

He crawls higher up on the bed to press his lips to Cas', and then he can't help but giggle for a second, himself, at how ridiculously _romcom_ this is. Literally, even, 'cause it was Cas who'd stolen the whole "chocolate fondue for Valentine's Day" thing from some movie he'd seen. Somehow, in the process, it had become less classic fondue, more nakedness—that bit may have been largely Dean's input—and now here he was, tracing characters in ancient script on the borrowed skin of a being probably older than the language itself.

"I believe you missed a spot," says Cas, glancing down pointedly.

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes at him, because really, half Cas' stomach is still covered in chocolate goo. Follows his gaze instead, to where— Oh. To where a smear of chocolate has miraculously appeared on Cas' hardening cock. The sly little fucker.

Dean takes the (decidedly unsubtle) hint and makes his way down the bed, down Cas' body, kissing and licking as he goes, until he's settled in between his legs. He licks a slow stripe along the length of Cas' cock, cleaning off the chocolate with his tongue. Then, because two can play at this game, he promptly pulls away again, sits back. "There. All better."

He can't quite hide a mischievous grin as Cas starts to splutter indignantly above him. "Oh," he adds, in his best lightbulb-just-went-on voice, "oh wait—you wanted _more_?"

Cas doesn't even deign to answer with more than an exasperated sigh.

Dean chuckles, nosing against the dip of skin just above Cas' hipbone. "Well, since you ask so nicely."

He takes Cas' cock into his mouth in earnest, now. Takes in the length of him until his lips are stretched tight and his eyes nearly start to water from the press against the back of his throat, then slides most of the way back off, tongue swirling across the tip. Sucking, sliding, swallowing—Dean's pretty damn good at this, if he does say so himself—and it isn't long before Cas starts babbling incoherent praise. 

Cas' fingers card through his hair, not pulling, almost petting. Dean spares a glance upwards, looking up through his lashes to find that Cas' own eyes aren't closed like he might have expected. Instead, the former angel is looking right back at him, gaze half-lidded yet focused, almost reverently, filled with what he can only describe as adoration. "God I love you," Dean murmurs around his cock on the upstroke, muffled.

"What?" Cas' reply comes breathless.

Dean abruptly stills for a moment before recovering, hoping Cas is too far gone at this point to notice the jerky movement. Uh. Yeah. _What_ , indeed? He silently curses his mouth for just letting the words fall out without permission.

Okay, it's not like he didn't _mean_ them, but—

The whole "love confessions in illegible Enochian" idea was stupid enough as it was, and this—

Cas interrupts his thoughts with a gasp before they can spiral out of control any further. He's arching up, and the hand on the back of Dean's head _is_ pulling now as Cas rolls his hips, thrusting up into Dean's mouth, so close Dean can taste it. He returns his full attention to the task at hand, his hands roaming Cas' body to squeeze and scratch and fondle as he sucks him down. It doesn't take long until Cas is tipping over the edge, hot come spilling down Dean's throat, some of it dripping onto Cas' own stomach to mix with the remnants of chocolate.

As the aftershocks fade, Cas half-heartedly tugs at Dean's hair with limp fingers, coaxing him back up. Dean complies, slotting first their bodies together—and he can't help but grind his own cock against Cas' hip for some much-needed friction, even if there isn't a doubt in his mind Cas will pay it proper attention once he's had a moment to recover—then their mouths, pretty sure kissing was what Cas was after.

"Dean?" Cas murmurs against his lips, after a minute.

"Hmm?"

"I love you, too."


End file.
